T'hy'la
by Horrorshow Jane
Summary: Kinkmeme fill: 'No, Spock,' she said, taking one of his hands in both of hers, 'no. I'm not crying because you were sad, or because I think... I'm going to lose him. I'm crying because I understand. I know what you have to be to each other—what you always have to be to each other. There's no way I could ever stand in the way of that.' Kirk/Spock, Bones/Uhura
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Star Trek, and any relationships I portray in this fiction make no statement about the sexualities and relationships of the actors who play them.

This fic is getting too long for the kinkmeme, so I'm resorting to posting it here. That said, it shouldn't reach NC-17, but it may hit M.

* * *

Spock was a very talented, intelligent, and generally _wonderful_ individual, and Nyota took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to force herself to remember this fact. It wasn't Spock's fault, it _really_ wasn't—after the attack on Starfleet command, they had to replace half of the region's senior command, and of course they would ask Spock to help with the selection process. He was the level head of the panel, very nearly immune to the temptations favouritism and politics—besides the intelligence that made him so very valuable in every capacity. So, if Nyota had to share him with Starfleet, she could handle that. She could handle the calls a half an hour before they were supposed to eat the dinner she was already cooking together, telling her in the most apologetic monotone Spock could muster, that he was required to remain at headquarters. She could handle this happening nearly each day for the three weeks that the _Enterprise _had been in drydock so far for repairs.

What she really _couldn't_ handle was Spock's response when she asked if he'd like her to bring by some dinner for him.

'Negative, Nyota,' he said without the slightest hint of hesitation. 'Jim has offered to have dinner with me.'

Yeah, that was what she really couldn't handle. Since when did Spock like the Captain enough to have dinner with him every night? Sure, Kirk technically died to save them all, but he was back, and he really hadn't changed that much from the experience. And since when was it _Jim_ to Spock, anyway?

Letting out a frustrated huff of breath, Nyota picked up the casserole dish (she'd even been teaching herself to cook a wider variety of vegetarian dishes just for him, and from scratch, not the replicator, even when he wasn't around to eat them) and headed out into the officer's dorm hallway, looking for the nearest convenient place to trash it. Putting it down the disposal in her quarters would have been too easy, she thought, heading for the window at the end of the hallway, looking to throw it outside.

'Uhura?' She stopped at the familiar voice, tuning to find Dr McCoy standing behind her, having just come out of the turbo. He was wearing his formal grey uniform, his hat held in his hands, and his eyes flicking over Uhura's form. She felt her face flush as she realised what sort of picture she might make, storming down the hallway in Starfleet sweats, holding a casserole dish.

'Hello, Doctor McCoy,' she said, voice coming out far more grating than she intended.

'Havin' dinner?' he asked, the very picture of innocence.

'Spock and I were going to have dinner together,' she said, 'but he was held up in meetings at headquarters.' The _again_ at the end of Nyota's sentence went unspoken, but certainly not unheard, and McCoy's eyebrows inched upwards.

'He couldn't make it, so you're—what, tossin' it down the turboshaft?' asked McCoy, humour colouring his words. Nyota blushed harder.

'The window was the plan, actually,' she admitted, voice level and matter-of-fact. McCoy stood stalk still for a moment, and then broke out into laughter. 'This isn't funny, Doctor!' He laughed harder at that, slapping his thigh with the hat still clasped in one hand. Nyota felt her lips twitch, again picturing how this looked. 'Alright, I guess it is. A little.'

'What is that, anyway?' asked McCoy, stepping closer and leaning down to peer into the dish.

'Vegetarian casserole,' Nyota answered, and McCoy straightened, peering at her carefully.

'You eat what he eats, don't you?' he asked, and she nodded mutely. 'And he's a _vegetarian_.' The incredulity in McCoy's voice as he practically spat out the word forced a smile out of Nyota, and McCoy's lips twitched correspondingly. 'So lemme guess—it's been a while since you had a nice filet mignon?'

'_Months_,' she admitted, and McCoy grinned at her.

'I dunno about tossin' it out the window, but if you wanna leave that here, we could go get us some steaks.' Uhura took a moment to think about it, and then nodded, grinning at her crewmate.

'Steak sounds wonderful.'

* * *

'It's not even that I expect him to be _domestic—_I'm not even very good at that,' Uhura admitted. She and the ship's doctor had had their steaks as promised and had moved on to drinks. The fire teas had sounded like a spectacular idea when their waiter suggested it, and the tingling in her fingers and the warmth in her belly felt even better.

'You just wan' 'im t' be there sometimes,' McCoy said, nodding. His accent had grown more prominent with each mint julep he downed, until he wasn't so much slurring as he was _drawling_ slowly. Uhura had snickered the first time a 'darlin'' had escaped him.

'Yes, exactly! He spends all of his spare time with Kirk now,' she admitted, and then paused, looking down at her drink. It might not be the best of ideas to complain about this with Kirk's _best friend_, but she was just tipsy enough to stop caring. Besides, McCoy knew how to be discreet. 'I get that he died, and it was really... good of him, but he's back now, so I don't understand what's pulling Spock to him. He _hated_ Kirk, and now he's calling him "Jim" and having nightly games of chess.'

'Uhura,' McCoy said slowly, sitting up straighter and looking suddenly far more sober than he had a moment before, 'I'm goin' t' tell ya somethin' I prob'ly, really shouldn't. Ya gotta keep it a secret, okay? No matter how much ya wanna tell yer hobgoblin.'

Nyota rolled her eyes at McCoy's name-calling, a smile tugging at her lips. 'I won't say a word.'

'Alright. Well, ya know when Spock stranded Jim on that ice planet during the _Nerada_ incident?' Nyota nodded gravely—it was the first time she'd ever questioned Spock's judgement. 'Tha's when he firs' met the other Spock, the one from the other universe. He's the one who tol' Jim he had to get Spock—our Spock, damn, this is confusin'-to give up command.'

'That's no secret, Doctor,' she said, and he shot her an irritated glance.

''M not done,' he said, and she huffed and sat back in her chair. 'Now, datin' a Vulcan an' all, 'm guessin' you know about their telepathy?' Nyota nodded. 'That other Spock did a mind meld with Jim on that ice world. He said it was 'cause there wa'n't time to explain in regular words, so he had to use thoughts, and I believe that, I guess, got no reason not to, except...'

'Except what, Doctor?'

'Some other thoughts got through that Jim wa'n't s'pposed to see,' McCoy told her, and paused to drain the last of his drink. 'Thoughts 'bout him—the other Spock—and the other Jim.'

'What kind of thoughts?' asked Uhura, her stomach roiling suddenly, and not from the alcohol.

'There was some word Jim told me he 'membered,' McCoy murmured, running a hand through his hair. 'Started with a "t," I think. Said that it's what the other Spock used ta d'scribe his relationship with 'is Jim. Sounded like tequila, maybe? No...'

'T'hy'la?' supplied Nyota, and McCoy nodded, grinning broadly.

'Tha's the one!' McCoy exclaimed, and then settled. 'He tol' me what it meant, too: friend, brother-'

'I know what it means, Doctor,' she all but snapped, and then took a deep breath and summoned up a smile. 'Xenolinguistics was my speciality, and Vulcan my area of expertise.'

'Right. It changed how Jim thought 'bout Spock—our Jim and our Spock, I mean,' McCoy said. 'He saw how 'e could get 'long with Spock, and what kinda team they could make, and so he let bygones be bygones.'

Nyota recalled the devastated look on Spock's face in engineering, when he'd been separated from their dead captain by one single door, and the tears on his face, and Kirk's hand pressed up against the glass, reaching for Spock-

'I need to talk to Spock,' she announced, and McCoy's brow furrowed.

'Said yourself he's in meetings at headquarters,' he rumbled, and Nyota shook her head.

'Not _my_ Spock,' she said, 'the _other_ Spock. I need to know what he told Kirk.'


	2. Chapter 2

It took Spock—the other Spock, who asked her to call him Selik, which Nyota just couldn't do, not when he raised his eyebrows in a way that was just so _Spock—_three days to get to Earth after she called him. She met him at the Starfleet hangar he'd flown into, ignoring the cadets and officers alike buzzing around him as he politely waved them off.

'Lieutenant,' he greeted Nyota, and she bristled internally at the formality of his greeting, since this was Spock saying this, and she took a deep breath, fixed a smile to her face, and tried to remember that this wasn't _her_ Spock.

'Ambassador,' she returned, and led him through the hangar to walk across the grounds of Starfleet.

'I was happy to answer your summons, Lieutenant-' Nyota felt her lips twitch at his use of the word 'happy,' but remained stoically silent. '—although I must confess that I remain "in the dark," as they say, regarding the reason I was called.'

'I wanted to talk about this in person,' she said slowly, stopping and moving off the path towards a bench, settling herself down and waiting until Spock had done the same. 'I'm sure you heard what happened on the _Enterprise_.'

'Indeed,' Spock confirmed. 'I was given the full story, considering my Starfleet security clearance, by Mr Spock.' Nyota shook her head slightly, deciding not to dwell on the fact that Spock had just addressed himself as Mr Spock, recalling the way they had done so when they sent their transmission to New Vulcan. 'That the Captain could recover from such an incident is fortunate.'

'Fortunate,' repeated Nyota distantly, and then she sighed. 'It's just... Spock was so upset when Kirk died. He was _crying_, in front of Scotty, in front of me, over Kirk, and now it seems like they're spending every waking moment together.' An edge of desperation had crept into her words involuntarily, and she took a steadying breath, waiting for his response.

'Perhaps Mr Spock is simply grateful to have the Captain back, and this will pass,' he said, voice neutral.

'You don't really believe that,' Nyota refuted. 'There's more to this than just Kirk's death.' Another deep, steadying breath. 'I heard about the mind meld on Delta Vega. I know what Kirk saw besides your ship falling through the black hole.'

'Indeed?'

'I know that Kirk remembered you calling him—the other him, anyway—your t'hy'la.' Spock's eyes met hers, an older, wiser, wearier version of her Spock's, but still the same, and there was silent apology in them. 'What did he see, Spock? What were you to each other?'

'T'hy'la is an accurate description,' Spock said, his voice steady, but far less monotone than it had been.

'No,' Nyota said. 'I don't know if Spock told you who I am to him, but I think I deserve to know about this. Tell me.' Spock swallowed visibly, a myriad of emotions swirling in his eyes.

'I do not know that I am capable of summarising such a relationship.'

'Then show me.' She hadn't meant it to come out as a demand, but it had, and she refused to revoke the request. 'Show me what Kirk saw.'

'Have you ever engaged in a mind meld with your Mr Spock?' he asked, voice gentler than it had been. Nyota shook her head. 'It is not to be engaged in lightly.'

'I know enough to realise what I'm asking,' Nyota said. 'I need to understand what's happening. Please.'

Haltingly, Spock nodded, and raised his hands, spreading his fingers and pressing them gently to Nyota's face. His eyes closed, and she followed suit. The gentle pressure of his fingers gave way to the pressure of his mind against hers, and she tried to relax, and then there was an explosion of colour and sound and _images_.

* * *

_You look quite well for a man that's been 'utterly destroyed,' Mr Spock—You may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting; this is not logical, but is often true—You aren't going to admit that for the first time in your life, you committed a purely human, emotional act? ...Mr Spock, you are a stubborn man—...happy birthday. Surely the best of times—Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few... or the one—One damn minute, Admiral—If I were human, I believe the correct response would be 'go to hell.' ...if I were human—I have been, and ever shall be, your friend. Live long, and prosper_—_**Jim**__—_

Voices, words, spoken by Kirk and Spock both filled Nyota's mind, and she heard the teasing, affectionate inflections of Kirk's voice and Spock's measured, patient responses, heard his concern for his captain, his friend (t'hy'la) and she could see them together—the way Kirk shot him warm glances across the bridge, reached out to steady him, sometimes to touch him for no rational reason at all other than that he wanted to, saw them fight, saw the looks of regret after-

She saw Spock in engineering, behind a glass wall, dying, his hand reaching up to press against the glass and Kirk's, and she saw Kirk cry for him as her Spock had cried-

Kirk holding Spock's hand as he lay in sickbay, trying to remember what it was like to feel-

Spock looking into McCoy's grief-stricken face and knowing that it was Kirk had died, that something had happened on that new _Enterprise _that none of them could fix-

Then there was Spock, this Spock, alone on Delta Vega, shivering less from the cold and more from rage, hurt, need, want, loneliness, _grief_, and—and then he saw Kirk. Kirk, the man he thought he would never see again, the man he'd thought was lost to him forever. Kirk, the only man he'd ever loved. _T'hy'la_.

When Spock pulled back from Nyota's mind, it took her a moment to come back into awareness of her body. She was sitting rigidly upright on the bench, her hands fisting the material of her uniform skirt, and there were tears on her face.

'I apologise,' Spock said, his voice holding genuine regret. 'As I explained to Jim—your Jim—emotional transference is often a side-effect of a mind meld.' Unable to help herself, Nyota laughed, and shook her head.

'No, Spock,' she said, taking one of his hands in both of hers, 'no. I'm not crying because you were sad, or because I think... I'm going to lose him. I'm crying because I _understand_. I know what you have to be to each other—what you always have to be to each other.' She looked down, and shook her head again gently. 'There's no way I could ever stand in the way of that.'

* * *

Nyota waits for McCoy outside of his quarters, on the same floor as her own, just sitting there, leaning against the wall. It's late, since she spent most of the day with the other Spock, slowly drawing stories and descriptions out of him about the rest of the crew, what the other versions of all of them had been like in that other world. He had finally extricated himself from the conversation when she asked what the cost had been in that universe to stop Khan, and if it had been connected to this Spock's death in engineering as their Jim's had been.

And that was another thing—after what she had seen in Spock's mind, she had suddenly taken to calling him Jim.

McCoy didn't say much when he fount her outside of his quarters, just held out a hand to help her up and then gestured to his couch vaguely when he got the door open, inviting her to sit. She did, sitting just as stiffly and uncomfortably as she had after the mind meld. Without a word, he pressed a drink into her hands—strong brandy, not a beer or another fire tea—and waited for her to speak first.

'I need to let Spock go,' she said quietly, and McCoy blew out a strong huff of breath.

'I agree,' he said, voice guarded, as though he was carefully considering each word and inflection, and Nyota peered curiously at him. He stared inscrutably at his own drink. 'But is this because of his neglecting you, some sort of irreconcilable differences-' The doctor's lips twitched at that, and she was reminded with a sharp stab of sympathy about his divorce. '—or is this just because you're losing him to Jim?'

'None of that,' she answered honestly. 'I talked to the other Spock. He showed me what Jim saw.' One of McCoy's eyebrows rose when she said that she had spoken to him, and the other went up to join its mate when she mentioned the meld. 'I understand now. He could never have been mine.'

'Uhura, I wouldn't give up just because of something that happened in another lifetime,' McCoy said, his voice carrying a bitter tinge to it. 'We're a different set of people.'

'Maybe we are,' she said, shrugging carefully, remembering the other Spock's stories; from what she could tell, each of them remained fundamentally unchanged from what they had been. 'But what I saw happening between Spock and Jim is... that goes beyond all of this. It's just... more. They cheated death together, and now they've done it again.'

'Uhura—'

'No,' she said, voice gentle, but firm, holding her ground. 'You didn't see what I saw, and you didn't see the look on Spock's face when Kirk died in front of him. He didn't even cry like that when Vulcan was destroyed.'

'He was in shock then—losing a telepathic link to most of his people would have shaken him-'

'Not even for his mother, Leonard,' Nyota cut him off, and he blinked at her, startled at her unprecedented use of his given name. 'Spock didn't even cry like that for his mother.'

She held his gaze for a long moment of silence; hers was determined, and his was pleading, hoping, wondering. Finally, he sighed and shook his head, scrubbing a hand roughly over his unshaven face.

'What are you gonna do?' he asked at last, and she smiled, knowing that this was his way of offering to help her.

'I told you, Doctor,' Nyota answered levelly, 'I'm going to have to let Spock go.'


	3. Chapter 3

Spock seemed almost jubilant, compared to his usual level of calm and level-headedness. Nyota listened with half an ear as he praised Jim and his contributions to the interviews and selection of the new captains and first officers, feeling a faint stab each time Spock commented on how Jim was proving himself to be 'surprisingly logical and clear-minded.' Such adjectives were very high praise indeed from Vulcans and words he had never used to describe her.

'Jim and I were also told privately that after the other officers have received their appointments and the _Enterprise_ repaired, we are to be given the first five-year deep space exploration mission,' Spock told her, and Nyota felt her stomach drop. Five years in close quarters with her about-to-be ex-lover and a captain she knew he should be with instead? This did not sit well with her, and that much was obvious even to Spock, whose eyebrows drew together in the Vulcan equivalent of a frown.

'I was under the impression that deep-space exploration was your ultimate goal when you first entered the Academy. Is this no longer the case?' Nyota summoned up a smile and shook her head.

'It was—_is_,' she corrected, and then lowered her eyes to stare fixedly at her plate. 'I just have a few other things on my mind.'

There wasn't any good way to do or say this, Nyota reflected. She was always going to look like the instigator, like the one who began a relationship with an emotionally unavailable Vulcan and then dumped him when he relationship became too much for her. More than that, it felt almost cruel to do this to him the first night he joined her in her quarters for dinner in a week, but she had to do it in person, and Nyota knew that she couldn't wait, not after what she'd seen.

'Nyota?' She snapped her eyes back to Spock, and felt her heart sink further, her stomach dropping as she caught sight of the concern in his eyes. 'Would you care to share your concerns?'

'Spock,' she started, 'you and I have known each other for four years, correct?'

'Essentially,' he answered immediately, 'although the precise answer I calculate to be 4.33 years.' Despite herself, Nyota felt a smile tug at her lips, but managed to suppress it before Spock could notice it.

'And we began our sexual relationship a year and a half ago,' she continued, and he nodded his head.

'2.23 years,' he said, and Nyota knew that she should take this as agreement rather than a correction, and so she simply nodded as well.

'In all that time, Spock, I...' She stopped, and sighed. 'So much has happened since then. Graduating from the Academy with a cadet class that was nearly a quarter of its original size to begin with-' Nyota paused slightly, but Spock showed little outward reaction to her thinly veiled reference to the Nerada incident. '—and then being posted to the flagship of the fleet, with everyone watching us, and most of the crew including the senior command being just out of the Academy...'

'You have performed your duties as Lieutenant and Chief Communications Officer aboard the _Enterprise_ admirably, just as you performed during the events involving the Nerada,' Spock told her, sounding mildly confused. They had talked about both of these issues before, between Nyota's anxieties that she wasn't ready for the magnitude of the duties she was to perform and Spock's initial worries over his place as Jim's First Officer (both because it was Jim Kirk and because Spock was concerned that the impact from the loss of his mother and planet would impair his abilities).

'Thank you, Spock,' Nyota answered. 'I'm glad that you think so—your opinion is important to me. But it isn't that. I just... I've changed.'

'As have I,' Spock concurred, traces of his confusion still evident in his tone and expression.

'Yes, you have,' she agreed, and then laid her hand on his forearm, purposely avoiding his hand—that would be too intimate for this moment, for what she was about to tell him. 'I think we've both changed, and in ways that...'

Comprehension dawned on Spock then, and he spared her from her clumsy attempt to complete her sentence. 'You are terminating our relationship,' he said, and his voice was the unemotional Vulcan monotone he used around the majority of the crew rather than the subtly varied inflections he usually spoke in to her, and she flinched slightly.

'Yes,' answered Nyota bluntly. 'I'm not going to do you the disservice of pretending otherwise.' She bit the inside of her cheek, watching Spock for signs of reaction and growing only more concerned when she saw none.

'Might I ask your reasons?' he requested, his cold tone bordering on terse.

'I told you-'

'You just told me that you would not 'do me the disservice of pretending,' Nyota,' he said, 'and I do not believe that either of us has changed in such a way as to make us incompatible. You have often reminded me that relationships involve input from both parties, and it would therefore be logical to discuss your reasons for termination of our relationship.' She remained silent—she had said that she wouldn't lie, but how could she tell him the truth? 'I see. You do not agree with this conclusion.' He rose, and nodded to her. 'I will take my leave of you, then. Thank you for dinner, Nyota.'

* * *

Dr McCoy opened his door the moment Nyota appeared—she even thought that he might have been waiting specifically for her to come. He took one look at her, trying to keep herself composed, and silently ushered her inside.

'He's upset,' she said simply as she scrubbed both hands over her face. 'He's actually _upset_. I couldn't give him any better reason for what I was doing than "we've changed."'

'Uhura,' he said, 'you know it had to be that way. You couldn't tell him what you saw—there's a reason Jim never said anything to him.' They had indeed been over that matter before, knowing that what she and Jim had seen in the elder Spock's mind, they could never tell Spock, or else they would risk influencing events between Jim and Spock.

'I know, I just... I think I hurt him almost as much as that hurt me,' she said, her voice growing quieter and choking up slightly. McCoy sank down onto the couch next to her, and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder.

'I'm sorry,' he said, and Nyota knew that he wasn't lying. He had encouraged her to break up with Spock, although not entirely for the sake of his relationship with their Captain; he believed that Spock was still too Vulcan to meet her needs—to meet her halfway, even. 'My replicator does a mean Rocky Road.' This startled her into a broken laugh, tears still shining in her eyes. She shook her head, the strained smile still on her face. 'Alright then. I guess we'll just stick with an old favourite: Saurian brandy. Cheers, Nyota.'


	4. Chapter 4

The following morning, Nyota woke up with a pounding headache and a roiling stomach, with an empty glass still clasped loosely in one hand, her limbs entangling with the doctor's on his couch. She blushed despite herself, and suppressed a giggle at the sight of his mussed hair before slipping away, flinching as she opened the door to the hallway and light filtered through. Stopping in the hall to press the heels of her palms into her eyes, she missed seeing the hallway's other occupant.

'Oh my God.' She groaned—James Kirk was _exactly_ the last person she wanted to see right now—she'd even take Spock over him in that moment, because the difference was that she didn't want to punch Spock for ruining their relationship. 'Oh my fucking _God_.'

'Captain, could you _please _keep your voice down?' she groaned, giving him an arch, pained look. 'In case you haven't noticed, I'm not having the best of mornings today. If you want to see McCoy, he's still passed out on the couch.'

'Jesus fucking _Christ_,' spat Jim, tugging his hands through his hair, looking more distressed and angry and generally _upset_ than Nyota had seen him since... since ever, really. 'I came here to see you, actually, because whatever kind of morning you're having is a piece of cake compared to the kind of morning Spock is having. Do you wanna know what we did last night?'

'Yes,' she said before she could stop herself, glad that Spock had sought out Jim the night before. Jim hadn't seemed to hear her answer, and she was thankful for that, at least.

'We took a trip to a little place called Hershey, Pennsylvania,' he snapped, 'which is like, _the_ chocolate capital of the fucking world. Do you know what chocolate does to Vulcans?'

'Yes,' Nyota repeated, but again Jim did not seem to hear her.

'It gets them drunker than Romulan ale! So I don't want to hear a damn word from you about how bad your morning is when last night you broke up with Spock and went straight to Bones' room,' he snapped. 'What I do want to know is why you couldn't have picked somebody I'd feel _less guilty about beating the shit out of!_'

Nyota blinked, Jim's words finally penetrating the cloud of pain she was in. 'You think that I broke up with Spock for Doctor McCoy?'

'Seems like the obvious conclusion to come to when a girl breaks up with her boyfriend and stumbles out hungover the next morning from another man's bedroom,' Kirk snapped, his hands at his sides clenched into fists as he struggled to control his anger.

Despite herself (and how much it increased the pounding ache in her head), Nyota laughed.

'Could you _keep it down_?' snapped McCoy as he slid the door to his quarters opened, looking just as adorably rumpled as he had when he'd still been asleep. 'I haven't gotten my hangover hypo yet.'

'I'm sorry, McCoy,' Nyota said, failing to notice the twitch her use of his last name caused on the doctor's face, 'but Kirk is under the impression that I broke up with Spock for you.'

'He always was real good at jumping to conclusions,' McCoy murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose before letting out a deep sigh. 'Could we at least have this conversation _after_ I get my hypo?'

'No, Bones, we can't,' Jim nearly yelled, 'because I had to listen to a drunk Vulcan last night telling me about a surprisingly long line of really _bitchy_ ex-girlfriends, and he's still passed out on my couch. You'll forgive me for wanting answers before I start punching the wall, which is an improvement over your head, which is what I really want to hit.'

'Dammit, Jim-'

'I didn't break up with him for McCoy,' Nyota interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest. 'I did it for _you_, Jim.'

Silence suddenly fell between the three of them, and Jim blinked several times, his anger giving way to confusion and an awkwardness that hadn't been there before.

'Look, Uhura, I know that I always... well, I don't exactly have a professional attitude towards you, but that's not really interest, it's more fun, and—what?' Halfway through his sentence, both Nyota and McCoy had begun to laugh. 'Okay, what did I miss this time?'

'Get your ass inside, Jim, and we'll talk about it there.'

* * *

Explaining to her Captain that she'd made the very difficult decision to break up with her boyfriend because she had seen from another version of her boyfriend that he would make a much better couple with said Captain was one of the most confusing and awkward things Nyota had ever done. Luckily, she had not needed to go into the details.

'I called the other Spock here after you died,' Nyota began, and Jim blinked.

'Yeah, he came to see me and said that he'd met you,' Jim answered. 'Wouldn't tell me what the two of you talked about, though. I assumed it was some sort of private Vulcan-related thing you only got to know because you had girlfriend privileges.'

'That's... not really what it was,' Nyota said awkwardly. 'It... after you died, Spock spent nearly all of his time with you—'

'That was all for Starfleet stuff, Uhura. They wanted us on the promotion board-'

'—and when he wasn't with you,' she continued, acting as though she hadn't heard him, 'he talked about you. "Jim's logical reasoning was particularly impressive today," and "I'm so excited that we're getting the five-year mission."' Both Jim and McCoy's eyebrows rose at that, and she let out a huff. 'Well, he was excited for _him_.'

'So, what, you broke up with Spock because you were jealous that we were actually getting along? That's pretty petty, Uhura.'

'I broke up with him because he's supposed to be t'hy'la to you and we both know it,' she snapped, and Jim's eyes went wide.

'How did you-'

'The other Spock showed me what the two of you were like in his universe,' she answered. 'Seeing that... you two could be something really great. I love Spock, I really do, but I'm not you. We couldn't ever have anything close to that.'

'And you think Spock and I could?' asked Jim, frustrating edging into his voice. 'We're different people than we were, we only just stopped hating each other, and some days I don't even think Spock likes me now.'

'You're the one he went to last night,' pointed out McCoy. Jim buried his face in his hands, shaking his head minutely.

'I've spent the last year of working with him wondering whether or not we could ever have something like that,' Jim said. 'Do you know how hard it's been not to talk to him about it? It feels like lying, and I hate lying to him.' He looked up and met Nyota's gaze directly at last. 'It's awesome that you were good enough to break up with him because you think he belongs with me, but that really isn't your call to make.'

'I felt like he belongs with someone else,' she said, 'and that's enough for me to have ended it. Don't try to tell me that you don't feel like he should be with you, not after what we both saw. And even if you won't accept that, there's more to it. When I made it down to engineering, right after you... Spock was crying. He didn't even cry for his own _mother_. Then he broke every rule of pacifism and logic he'd ever learned as a Vulcan—he was going to kill Khan until I beamed down to stop him. That was all for _you_, and if that doesn't convince you that there's more to your relationship than some fucked up predestination, I don't know what will.'

Jim blinked, and then fell backwards to lean fully against the couch, squeezing his eyes shut.

'I'd been able to ignore what I saw because I didn't think anything would happen between me and my Spock,' he said, 'and now you're telling me that it's been happening and I've just missed it. That's fucking great.'

'Jim,' said McCoy, 'we've already had this talk. You can't tell him what's going on.'

'And I'm sure you had the same talk with Uhura,' Jim said, 'which means that he can't know that you broke up with him to try to get us together. He's not going to know that you weren't just being a bitch who dumped him for personal reasons that you refused to talk about.' Nyota flinched at that description, which, despite being Kirk-speak for whatever Spock had actually said, was likely not far from Spock's own interpretation. 'He's going to think that you're just being a bitch.'

'I knew that when I made this decision,' Nyota answered flatly. 'It wouldn't be fair to make him stay with me when there's something between you that he doesn't even realise is there.'

'Ugh,' groaned Jim, balling his hands into fists again, 'how am I supposed to have that awesome relationship with someone who's oblivious to it when I can't even tell them about it?'

'The same way everybody else has relationships, Jim,' McCoy told him with a roll of his eyes. 'You have to be patient.'

* * *

'Holy shit, Uhura. I didn't know Spock had this much stuff, let alone that he managed to get it all over here to your place in three weeks,' Jim grumbled. After they had hashed things out in McCoy's quarters, Jim had told her that he'd offered last night to get Spock's stuff back from Nyota, and so they had adjourned to her quarters.

'He has his own apartment off Starfleet grounds,' she said simply, packing up his antique, one-dimensional chess set with care. It had been in his mother's family for generations. Jim made a humming noise in reply.

'You've already decided that you want that relationship with Spock, haven't you?' she asked abruptly, and Jim shrugged.

'On the one hand—how the hell could I not want that? You saw what they were like. On the other hand... I'm not really... very good at relationships,' he said. 'Spock and I are just now starting to work well together. I don't want to fuck that up and go back to hating each other.'

'Spock never hated you,' Nyota corrected, focusing on folding one of Spock's sweaters so that she wouldn't have to look at Jim. 'He found you irritating, illogical, impulsive, and downright reckless, but he never hated you.'

'Yeah, maybe you don't remember the part where he fucking choked me on the bridge,' Jim pointed out wryly. 'Not that I didn't deserve it for what I said, but you kinda have to hate someone to try to kill them.'

'Trust me, if he had wanted to kill you, you would be dead,' she said, and Jim rolled his eyes. 'Besides, you just happened to get in his way when he was just about ready to blast the next person who looked at him wrong.'

'I still wish the other Spock would've told me how to get Spock to step down without having to say all that shit about his mother,' Jim murmured, absent-mindedly turning over a book of Vulcan philosophy in his hands. 'I think that's part of what made us both so defensive for months after that.'

Opening her mouth to respond, Nyota was interrupted by the chime of the door. Sighing, she called for the visitor to enter, freezing when she saw Spock, his arms stiffly held behind his back, standing in the doorway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the slow update! I had some writer's block, and I had to force myself to write this. Sorry if that means it's not very good!

* * *

'I was informed that it would be appropriate for me to retrieve my personal items from your quarters as swiftly as possible,' Spock told Nyota, and then caught sight of Jim sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes of his things. 'I see that you and the Captain have already begun the process.'

'Yeah, I offered to do it for you so you wouldn't have to,' Jim said, frowning slightly. 'And we're not on duty, Spock, so call me Jim.'

'I do not recall such a conversation.'

'It was last night.'

'Then at least we are now aware of the reason I have no memory of it.' As though seeming suddenly to remember where he was and that Nyota was present, Spock stiffened even further (and how that was possible even she did not know). 'Since I am here, I will assist in retrieving my belongings.'

'Nah, Spock, there's really no need for that,' Kirk replied before Nyota could formulate a response. 'We're just about done here, if you want to help me get this stuff back to your place?'

Spock inclined his head marginally in assent. 'That is acceptable. Thank you, Jim.'

Nyota watched as her captain's face lit up when Spock called him by his given name, and then felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably as Spock turned to her and nodded. 'We will be out of your way shortly, Lieutenant.' He then stepped forward to begin stacking boxes together, and Jim shot Nyota a sympathetic look. She summoned a small smile and a shrug, trying to seem unaffected by Spock's brush-off.

'I'll... just go get McCoy,' Nyota said quietly. 'It'll take more than the two of you.' Jim nodded in absent agreement, and Spock appeared so intent on his task that he hadn't heard her, and she slipped quietly out of the room.

The moment McCoy's door slid open, he took one look at her and sighed. 'What d'ya need help with?'

'They're moving Spock's stuff,' she said, and the doctor just nodded silently before following her down the hall to her quarters. When they reached her door, which she had had left open, McCoy put his arm out to stop her from entering.

'Listen,' he mouthed, and Nyota frowned, but turned her attention to the two men inside.

'—book was given to me by T'Pau, leader of my house and my father's mother,' they heard Spock saying quietly. 'This was after I accepted my place at Starfleet Academy.'

'So after you told the Science Academy to go to hell,' Jim said, his voice light and teasing, and Nyota could just imagine Spock's glower. Her frown intensified as she realised that she had never heard the story they were discussing.

'I said only that I was grateful for their presented opportunity, and wished that they live long and prosper,' Spock returned, the very picture of innocent neutrality.

'And I'm sure "live long and prosper" never sounded quite so much like "fuck you,"' Jim said, laughter clear in his voice. Spock made no verbal reply, and McCoy took the opportunity to announce their presence.

'Alright, Spock, how much junk d'ya have ta haul around?' McCoy drawled as they entered, pushing up the sleeves of his standard science blues. Spock shot the doctor an unimpressed look.

'I am sure that Jim and I can manage if you do not wish to help us take "my junk" to my lodgings,' Spock said, and McCoy snorted.

'Like hell,' McCoy said, rubbing his hands together. 'Any chance to look through your things is fine by me—I've got a sneaking suspicion that you're an elf after all, and I'd like to find the evidence to prove it.'

'I find your argument strewn with gaping defects in logic.'

'And I find that you don't 'ave much choice, since you need my help,' McCoy retorted cheerfully, and Nyota bit the inside of her cheek, convinced that gathering them had been a bad idea. But there was no real fire behind McCoy's weak barb, and Spock had retained his neutrality throughout the exchange, proving that he was not really bothered.

For his part, Jim had barely paid any attention to his two friends, instead remaining focused on the boxes strewn out before him.

'I think that's about it,' he announced, straightening from where he had sat cross-legged on the floor. 'The three of us should be able to carry this stuff.' There were a number of boxes, and it appeared that each man would have to handle three or four.

'I can help,' Nyota offered before she could stop herself, and frowned at the way Spock tensed. 'If you really need me to.'

Jim glanced at Spock, and there was an awkward moment of silence before it became clear that he wasn't going to answer. Jim cleared his throat. 'Uh, thanks, Uhura, but I think we'll be okay.' She made a show of nodding and smiling, and then there was little more for her to do but stand aside as the three men gathered up their boxes.

They made their way out into the hall, with McCoy grumbling softly to himself as they went. Jim went first, and gave her a half-smile of commiseration. Spock wouldn't meet her eyes, but McCoy went quiet for a moment and met her eyes without smiling. Finally, he shook his head and followed his friends out.

Nyota slumped back against the wall as soon as the door had slid shut. The room looked empty to her now without Spock's things in it—she hadn't realised until now how much of what had been in her quarters was his until they were gone.

* * *

Nyota hadn't felt this isolated since before she started at the Academy. Back in Africa, as a kid, her intelligence, looks, and athleticism had made everyone jealous of her and distant. But it was a different world once she entered Starfleet—everyone else was on her level, and she thrived that way. But now, several weeks after she broke up with Spock, and everyone had heard. It seemed everyone had taken a side—_Spock's_ side.

Nyota knew that there were some who had sided with her (however unnecessary she found that to be), or some who were determined to stay out of it completely. Most of the _Enterprise _bridge crew was doing their best to stay impartial, for which she was grateful. It was more difficult than anyone had expected, though—she hadn't realised how much both she and Spock had become ingrained into the social lives and activities of the bridge crew.

Chekov seemed to find it the most difficult to keep from mentioning the commander in conversation with her. 'Ze commander and ze keptin both agreed to join poker night!' he had exclaimed happily during their last conversation, when Nyota had had lunch with the young lieutenant and Sulu. The pilot had elbowed his friend in the ribs and given him a significant look, and Chekov had looked offended and hurt before understanding dawned on him. Nyota had smiled and lied, assuring them that it didn't bother her to hear about Spock.

If there was anyone who was feeling the stress of their break-up the most, though, it had to be McCoy. The doctor knew why she'd done it, after all, and had agreed to keep tabs on Kirk's progress with Spock for her, so he was hearing all about it both from his best friend's point of view, and the ex-girlfriend's. Sometimes, Nyota thought about letting McCoy off the hook, but the doctor would just grimace when she asked if he wanted her to stop talking about it. 'I gotta hear about it from Jim anyway. I might as well get the whole picture.'

Still, Nyota felt a pang of guilt when she would talk about Spock and then catch sight of the deeper-than-usual frown etched across his features. Two months after she broke up with Spock, Nyota found out that it wasn't just irritation causing the doctor's scowl. It was jealousy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **For those of you on the alert list, check the previous chapter, too. This is the second one today, so you might've missed the previous one.

* * *

'How long've we been doin' this, 'hura?' McCoy drawled, his accent, as always, amplified by the liquor he'd consumed throughout the evening. They were sitting in a bar, dark except for the flashing, coloured lights, not far from Starfleet headquarters. In fact, it was a popular bar amongst those in the service; it was Nyota's turn to pick the location for their night out, and McCoy had accepted her choice with only a slight grimace as his complaint against it.

'Doing what, Doc?' Nyota asked, one finger circling the rim of her glass absently.

'Gettin' drunk Friday night,' the doctor explained, and she blew out a huff of breath that was nearly a laugh.

'I dunno,' she answered, her own speech slurred slightly. 'Since I broke up with Spock?' McCoy sat forward eagerly then, and drunkenly waved one finger at her.

'See! See! Tha's 'xactly what the pr'blem is,' McCoy yelled exuberantly over the pounding of the music around them. 'Ya could'a said "two months," but 'stead ya said "since 'pock." I know tha's why we star'ed drinkin', 'hura, but i's been two months now, and 'm still listenin' to ya talk 'bout 'im.'

'You don't'ave to,' she said, frowning at him.

'Do so!' retorted the doctor, and Nyota couldn't suppress a snort of laughter at the childish response. 'Y'only come t'me now if ya wanna talk 'bout 'im, so if I wanna talk t'ya, I better wanna hear it.' For the first time, Nyota felt a pang of guilt for a different reason. She had been so focused on the idea that McCoy would just be sick of hearing about Spock that it hadn't occurred to her that the doctor might feel used—they hadn't exactly been close friends before the big break up, and it was true that all they really talked about after it was her ex-boyfriend. Before she could open her mouth to apologise, he was already talking again.

'Truth is, 'hura—_Nyota_-I like ya. Lot. Jus' wanna spend time with ya.' He reached out and clumsily grabbed the hand that had been playing with her glass, nearly knocking it over. The doctor stared drunkenly at her hand in his, and then laughed. 'Took me two months an' half a bottle'a whiskey ta get th'courage t'do that.'

Nyota stared at him for a long moment, and when she didn't respond, McCoy sighed and gave her had a squeeze before drawing back.

'Sorry. Jus' call it dr'nken stupidi—stupidit—stupidness.' McCoy shook his head, and started to stand. Time seemed to freeze as Nyota remembered the frown he would get when she would talk about Spock, the glint in his eye she hadn't been able to place when she said no to anyone who asked if there was someone else for her already, each time he'd go out with her on Friday night and then help her back to her quarters when the bar closed down at two in the morning.

She stood up so fast and clumsily that it knocked her chair over and shook the small table, and McCoy looked at her in alarm as she grabbed onto his wrist.

After a moment of trying to work out what to say, something that would encompass everything about him that Nyota had only now taken notice of, she cleared her throat. 'You're... a really good guy.'

'Ya don' 'ave ta make me feel better,' he said. 'S'okay, I get it. I-'

'Shut _up_,' she said, and when McCoy's mouth snapped shut Nyota nodded in satisfaction. 'You aren't getting it. I think you're a really good guy.' His brow furrowed in confusion, and she waited for any sign of understanding, but none came.

'I still don' get it,' he told her, and she huffed in exasperation.

A second later, she used her grip on his arm to yank him towards her, which sent him stumbling into her. Drunk as he was, McCoy was unable to keep his balance and fell into her, pushing her back against the brick wall behind her. He stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise, and she threw both arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

It was sloppy, and they were both definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol they'd had that night, but there was _fire_ and aggression and want and need as his mouth moved against hers. When she finally allowed him to move back slightly, there was a look of surprise mingled with that same wonder on his face.

'Oh,' McCoy said. 'Ya think 'm a really good guy.'

'Yeah,' Nyota answered, 'I do.'

The fact that she meant it, that she genuinely believed he was a good man, didn't stop her from quietly collecting her clothes and slipping them back on in the morning before he woke up so that she could creep down the hallway back to her quarters.

It didn't stop her, but it did make her feel all the more guilty.

* * *

After three shots of tequila and another five glasses of liquor the night before combined with little more than three hours' worth of sleep meant that when her door chime went off at precisely 0800, Nyota was not going to skip to the door and greet whoever her visitor was with a great, big bear hug. Especially since she had a feeling that her visitor was none other than Dr McCoy.

'Computer, identify visitor,' she mumbled, not bothering to lift her head from her pillow.

'Visitor is Commander Spock,' the computer replied in its crisp, automated voice. Nyota sat bolt upright, and then swore colourfully in Swahili when it caused the pounding in her head to increase tenfold. Groaning, she rose slowly and glanced down at herself. Straightening the dress she hadn't bothered to change out of and pulling back her hair quickly, she went to the door.

Nyota stood in front of it, staring at the metal for a solid minute. She contemplated not opening it, having the computer tell Spock that she wasn't there because she really didn't think she could handle this right now, but instead she sighed and hit the button to open it.

'Good morning,' Spock said stiffly. He was standing stiffly, too, with his hands clasped behind his back, and he could've passed inspection, with his uniform and posture perfect as ever.

'No,' she said, her voice unintentionally revealing some of the discomfort of her hangover, 'it really isn't.' Spock's lips twitched slightly in the ghost of a frown, and she sighed again, and stepped aside to allow him to enter. 'Come on in.'

They stood awkwardly in front of the door for a moment, and then Nyota gestured to the couch, and Spock complied, sitting on the very edge of it, just as stiff as he had been. She made her way to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee.

'I'd offer you tea, but you took it with you when you got the rest of your stuff,' she said.

'It is of no consequence,' he answered dismissively.

'So what did you want?' she asked without preamble, one bracing hand against her forehead to try to stifle the pounding.

'I can return at another time if you are unwell,' he offered, hesitation clear in his voice. Nyota knew what that meant—he didn't want to be having this conversation at all, and she felt a pang of sympathy. They'd talked to each other since they broke up, of course, but each time it had been in the presence of another officer, and always about ship's business.

'I'm just hungover, Spock,' she said bluntly. 'I'll be fine.' Seeming to accept this, he inclined his head marginally, and then pressed his fingertips together, gathering his thoughts.

'I came to inquire as to your intentions towards Dr McCoy.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **I know I'm spoiling you guys, uploading three chapters in one day, but I may not be able to post for a little while, so I'm letting you have it all at once. Just try to make it last! ;)

* * *

Nyota blinked. 'Excuse me?'

'The doctor and I have developed a rapport over the last few months,' Spock continued, undaunted by her lack of an immediate response, 'which is quite understandable and expected when one considers our mutual interest in watching over the captain. Four days ago, he asked for my permission in pursuing a relationship with you. I still do not understand why he made such a request, but he assured me that it was necessary. I gave my consent, and last night, at 0142, I witnessed an intimate moment between the two of you in a bar. You left together, and I assumed that events had reached a conclusion satisfactory for all parties.

'This morning, however, that assumption was questioned when the captain cancelled our plans for breakfast to have, as he called it, "an emergency therapy session" with the doctor. I may only conclude from this that some part of the evening went badly. Therefore, I have come to ask what happened, and what your future plans are with regard to Dr McCoy.'

Nyota stared at her former boyfriend, shocked, but was saved from having to answer just then by the insistent beep of her coffee maker. She took the opportunity to collect her thoughts, and began drinking the coffee black, wincing as it scalded her tongue, but unwilling to wait.

'Let me get this straight,' Nyota said slowly, setting her coffee on the side table and sinking down into one of the chairs across from Spock. 'You and McCoy are friends now, and he asked you if he could date me, your ex-girlfriend, and you said yes. Last night you were at the bar and saw me and him kissing, and leaving together. Now this morning you heard from Jim that something else happened, and you came straight here to interrogate me about it?'

'I believe "interrogate" to be an inaccurate description of-'

'Spock,' she said, 'I was exaggerating. Just... what makes you think that you, my ex-boyfriend, have any right to ask me what I'm doing with another man?'

He gave her a very patient look, tinged with the sort of condescension he had aimed at slow students who failed to meet his expectations. 'Dr McCoy requested my permission in pursuing this relationship, and he is, as you say, my friend. I am bound to make inquiries into this matter.' Nyota let out a groan and buried her face in her hands for a long moment, summoning the patience and the courage to deal with this without simply ordering him out of her quarters.

'_Spock_,' she said again. 'He asked for your permission because he thought you might still have feelings for me, and he didn't want any relationship he and I _might_ start to bother you, because the two of you are friends. It's an etiquette thing, it doesn't actually _make you responsible for what's happened_.'

'Then something _has_ happened.'

'What part of "none of your business" don't you understand?' she groaned, but without any real conviction. Spock had always been nosy, but he had always been able to pass it off as curiosity about human culture before.

'You did not actually tell me that it was "none of my business,"' Spock pointed out mildly, and Nyota glared at him in warning. 'I simply wish to know if you are intent on "stringing him along," as the expression goes, in the same manner you did with me.' Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply as though he'd just slapped her—which, vocally, he had.

Suddenly, she knew exactly what this was about. Spock was still in the dark (with good reason) as to why she had broken up with him. To him, as Jim had said months ago, it just looked like she was being a bitch. Now he was afraid that she was going to hurt McCoy the same way she'd hurt him.

Not for the first time, she felt a pang of regret for what she'd had to do. 'I didn't mean to hurt you, Spock.'

'Perhaps not,' he said, 'and though I did not come here to discuss our... situation, I must admit that it might have some bearing, considering that my concern is that your relationship with the doctor will proceed in a similar manner, and meet a similar end.'

'I'm not out to hurt him, Spock, and I wasn't out to hurt you.'

'As I said, perhaps not,' he conceded, 'but it would appear, judging from this morning's events, that you have already done so. I was with Jim when McCoy sent his request, and the doctor seemed... upset by the manner in which events progressed with you.'

Nyota sighed, and squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, bracing herself against the pain still pounding away behind her eyes.

'Look, Spock, I appreciate your concern, and I'm sure Dr McCoy does, too, but it _really_ isn't your business,' she insisted, and she didn't miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

'At one time, you confided such things in me,' he murmured, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle the pain. 'Even before we were engaged in a relationship. I would request that we at least remain friends.' Spock fell silent for a long moment, and Nyota said nothing, realising that Spock hadn't yet finished. 'When the doctor asked for my permission, he also asked if I still harboured feelings for you. The answer was—and remains—complex. I find that I no longer... have as strong a desire for the relationship we had, but I do... miss your company.'

Nyota felt her stomach roil unpleasantly. That Spock was willing to reveal his feelings in this way was telling, and she couldn't shoot him down now, even though he'd said 'as strong a desire'-his feelings for her were still there, they hadn't disappeared, but he was willing to put them aside for the sake of continuing a friendship with her.

'I avoided you to give you space,' she said, half an explanation and half an apology. Spock inclined his head in acceptance.

'I understand. However, if you are willing, I would request that we attempt to salvage our friendship,' Spock told her candidly, and after a beat, Nyota managed a smile.

'I'd like that.'

'Then perhaps we could continue our discussion?' Spock requested. 'I would invite you to tell me about your relationship with Dr McCoy, as your friend.'

Everything about this screamed 'bad idea' to Nyota. For starters, she would have to tell him what... happened the night before, and she would have to figure out for _herself_ what she was doing with McCoy—what she wanted to do with McCoy.

'Yeah, Uhura. Let's hear all about it—as your _friends_.' She jumped, and turned to see Jim standing in the doorway, his expression forbidding and body practically vibrating with suppressed anger. 'Let's hear all about why you screwed a guy who's in _love_ with you and then left the morning after without so much as "thanks." Let's hear all about _that_.'


End file.
